Claimed (erotic) (#1, 101 Nights)

Chapter Seven: Natalie

I’m not sure what that means, but I’m too horny to care. If his looks make me stop in place, his touch drives me insane. I can be furious at him and melt at his feet, and I have no idea how. He clearly views me as an expendable means to an end.

I want to hate him. I should hate him, but something about the way he looks at me makes me soak my underwear before he’s even touched me. I can’t get the night with him out of my mind, and my body aches with wanting the sexiest man I’ve ever seen touch me again.

I lie on the bed and wait, my quivering skin so sensitive that the air conditioning makes it prickle.

Elijah returns to the bed and kneels beside my head, his dick near my mouth again. I swear, I’ve never been with someone who had such a huge one, and I don’t know how it fits inside me. Long, thick and hard, seeing it makes the place between my legs ache badly.

His hair is ruffled, giving him a boyish look, one that fades when I see the sharpness of his heated gaze. I think he’s capable of much more than he’s showed me so far, and sometimes, that scares me. He’s aggressive and calculating, too smart for me to relax around him outside of bed, and too assertive for me to consider resisting him in bed.

He’s got a small smile on his face. His lean, muscular body looks as if it was chiseled out of bronze marble. There are no imperfections in it. He takes one of my wrists with long fingers and ties one arm to the bedpost. Leaning over me, he stretches to tie my other hand.

He ties my legs next, until I lie spread eagle on the bed, completely exposed and vulnerable. I tug at the bonds and find them tight enough to prevent me from moving more than a couple of inches.

“Elijah …” I start, uncertain I like this idea.

“Quiet,” he whispers, and settles on top of me. “Your safe word is orange. If I do anything that hurts or scares you, or if you feel overwhelmed, use it, and I’ll stop.” He lowers his head to kiss me deeply, his hands roaming over my tied arms and then down my sides. He pulls away. “Got it?”

I nod. The truth is that I’m curious to know what he’s going to do to me. The idea of letting him control my body, of being completely vulnerable to someone with such a dark side, thrills me, turns me on the way nothing else ever has.

Does that make me bad? Twisted? Sick? Should I feel ashamed of wanting him to make me scream in pleasure?

He kisses my neck, down my collarbone and then suckles on one breast. I’m expecting his bite this time, but it still makes me gasp, the pain and pleasure mixing in a way I’m not sure I like yet.

One of his hands goes down between my legs, and he begins stroking my clit as he kisses, nibbles and bites the other breast. He continues down my body, until his mouth hovers above the swollen bud where his finger is working.

“You feel so good,” I groan, unable to lift my hips or move my body to make his touch harder, to satisfy my need.

“I love your taste,” he says, then dips his head to flicker his tongue into my core. It’s an odd sensation, so much lighter than his fingers. It’s more of a tease, moving in and out of my pussy then up.

I strain to lift my hips once more, needing him to suckle there. He takes his time, his fingers moving in and out of me. Finally, he flicks his tongue against my straining clit.

I’m embarrassed by my own throaty moan.

He chuckles. “Be patient. You’ve got a ways to go.”

He licks and circles the clit until my body grows tight and stiff and I’m writhing, struggling to press it fully to the tongue or lips or teeth that are fueling the maddening orgasm that’s building.